The Diagnosis
by AiLing
Summary: 9 months after Charlotte's traumatic birth - something else rocks the Sheperd-Hunt household..
1. Chapter 1

**The diagnosis**

 **I got this idea from a sequel to a Spanish series I had watched a long time ago...**

 **Amelia** **'s POV**

I walk into the hospital daycare, with Charlotte in tow. Charlotte is wearing a pink onsie which spots the sentence ' My mummy rocks'. At 9 months old, she can now sit upright in my arms, and is looking at me and smiling at me with her big drooly smile. She is just the happiest baby ever, a direct constrast to her traumatic birth.

I kiss her forehead. Even though I have been back to work for 6 months already since she had been born, every single day I find it so damn hard to leave her here under the care of others. Every single moment, even when my hands are buried deep in the brain of another human- I would be thinking of her and missing her. Everyday, I find myself sneaking to the daycare in between consults and during lunch break to see her. Blame my mummy hormones. But how can I resist? She is just the most adorable human being ever- I don't know how Owen and I managed to create such a perfect little human. She is the exact clone of me, that is what everyone says. I think she looks like Derek too, I still miss him a lot.

' Bye Char- mummy has to go save lives now. But I promise I'll come in to see you in a few hours time ok? If not, daddy will be here'.

I am really not kidding when I say that Charlotte has Owen wrapped around her little finger already. Every day once he comes home, he would tickle her in the tummy, causing her to giggle and lift her high up in the air, eliciting even more giggles. He calls her his little princess. And every night, we would tuck her in bed, and stare at her sleeping for hours. Sometimes he would carry her around the hospital ER to show her off to the nurses, much to April's chargin. At nights, we would both stand beside her cot for several moments looking at her sleeping peacefully, silently wondering how did we, imperfect people manage to create such a perfect human being.

I reluctantly hand her over to the hospital Daycare worker, a friendly woman with a warm smile.

' Her diapers, bottles, wipes, everything is in her bag' I say, handing the baby and the bag over to the worker.

' Got it' she smiles warmly at me. ' Go to save some lives Dr. Sheperd!'

I give a quick wave goodbye and rush out of the daycare. I am afraid that if I stay here any longer, I would just change my mind and take Charlotte back with me. So I better go as far away as possible before I change my mind.

* * *

I am scrubbing out after successfully removing a tumour from a 10 year old child. Beside me Stephanie Edwards is also scrubbing out. She really is the best resident ever. She can anticipate my every move in the OR. I really love her on my service.

' Dr Sheperd, are you ok?' Stephanie asks, looking at me.

' Yeah, why?' I ask. In actual fact, I am feeling lightheaded and dizzy and tired all the time. I have been having these spells for the past couple of weeks or so. Just now in the OR, for a moment or two, I thought I was about to pass out, but thankfully I managed to pull through.

' You look very pale and tired.' Stephanie looks at me with concern. ' Are you sure you're ok? Do you need to take a break? I can inform the scrub nurses that our next surgery will be postponed.'

' Yeah, it's just that Charlotte has been keeping me up all night lately. I think she's teething'. I say. It was the truth, I barely got any sleep last night.

' Ok' Stephanie says slowly, still not taking her eyes of me. I think she has been on my service long enough to know whether I am feeling ok or not.

' Maybe you should get yourself checked out though' she says finally. ' Because honestly Dr Sheperd, no offense but you look like crap.'

' Geez, thanks Edwards. I really appreciate your honestly.' I say, feigining hurt.

' I am always a straightforward person' says Stephanie.

' But seriously Dr. Sheperd, maybe you should just get yourself checked out, maybe do a blood test or something just to be sure'.

' You're right, maybe I should' I say. ' You don't mind drawing a sample for me?'

Moments later, we are in an empty patients room, Stephanie having just drawn out blood from me.

' Alright, let's send this to the lab' she says, holding the test tubes in her hand.

Just then, both our pagers beeped.

' Damn' we both mutter to ourselves. We've been paged to the ER, seems like several patients with brain bleeds had just come in.

' Hey DeLuca' Stephanie calls out to the intern who had just passed by the room.

' Could you send this to the lab please? Tell them it's urgent'.

We had labelled it under patient X to protect my confidentiality.

' Ok sure' he answers, scurrying towards the lab.

* * *

That night, I am settled in the bedroom alone - Charlotte is asleep and Owen is on call.

I finally take out the big envelope containing my blood results. I had been too busy at work today to have a look at them- called from OR to consult to OR again since DeLuca handed the results back to me. It was a miracle indeed that I didn't pass out at all today.

I scan through the full blood count. My white cell count, haemoglobin and platelet counts were all on the low side, pancytopenia. Huh? This isn't good at all.

My eyes continue scanning down to the peripheral blood film which was ordered too, under urgent.

There it was, written under the results section - Pancytopenia. Presence of blast cells suggestive of chronic myeloid leukaemia. Suggest bone marrow aspiration to confirm diagnosis.

I stare and stare again at the results, as if staring at them could change them. This is it - I have been having good luck for too long, I have been happy for too long. And now the universe is back against me again. I just knew it. I can never be happy for too long. I feel like I'm in a real life Final Destination. I've escaped death twice already- once as a teen when Derek resuscitated me, another time during Charlotte's birth when Arizona saved me from haemorrhaging to death. Now this time around, I might not be so lucky anymore. I feel the room spinning a little...I feel like a rug has been pulled from under me again.

Actually, I worry more about Owen and Charlotte than about myself. How are they going to cope without me? I fear Owen's reaction to this. I don't know how am I going to tell him. Maybe I should just wait until the bone marrow aspiration results come back to confirm the diagnosis.

The sound of keys unlocking the main door divert my attention. I quickly shove the envelope into the locker and go downstairs to greet my husband. I haven't seen him all day.

He looks as handsome as ever in his plaid shirt.

' Hey' he smiles at me, hanging his coat at the hallway.

I smile back and give him a quick affectionate kiss on the cheek. I wrap my arms around his waist and lean my head on his chest.

' Mia are you ok?' he asks kissing the top of my forehead.

I know the reason why he is asking that question.

I am seldom this affectionate towards him ( he knows I love him very much though). I usually pride myself to being a strong-headed, independent woman, who doesn't need affection from men. He know that this behaviour is very unusual of me.

' Nothing, I just missed you that's all' I answer softly.

 _If only he knew._

' Char's asleep?' he changes the subject.

' Yes, she konked out after feeding an hour ago' I say.

We both walk into the nursery and stare at our peacefully sleeping daughter. We could watch her sleep for hours. This is our perfect little family. Please universe, don't take any of this away from us.

 **Please do read and review! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Owen's POV**

 **This is a continuation of** **'The Diagnosis'**

Amelia has been acting rather weird lately. I know her well enough to know that something is up with her, and I know her well enough to not pester her about it.  
She'll tell me in her own time. After all these years with her, I've learnt to give her space and time. She would come to me for support when she needs it, and I'll be there for her. But I would not intrude and force her to open up to me if she is not ready to do so.

The reason why I say she has been acting weird is because she has been avoiding me for the past few days. Every morning, I would wake up to an empty bed, with the indentation on her pillow indicating that she has just gotten out of bed not too long ago. When I approach her in the kitchen, she would busy herself with preparing breakfast or feeding Charlotte. She would barely look at me in the eye. She has been avoiding eye contact with me.

This morning, I am determined to get her to talk to me. This is my mission for today.  
I slowly walk down the stairs to the kitchen, where Amelia is at the stove, already preparing waffles for us and some baby cereal for Charlotte. Charlotte is happily babbling to herself and banging her chubby hands on her baby chair beside the kitchen table.

' Hey princess' I coo, picking Charlotte up from her baby chair and lifting her high up in the air, causing her to coo and laugh happily. I repeat the process a few more times, eliciting more laughter from her.

I place Charlotte back in her chair and turn my attention to Amelia. She is still standing at the stove, busying herself with the waffles, her back towards me.  
I slowly walk over to her and wrap my arms around her waist. She still does't respond, so I kiss the nape of her neck, her favourite spot. She still didn't buldge. Something is really wrong here.

' Mia' I ask ' Are you ok?'

' Yea I'm fine' Amelia replies curtly, her attention still focused on the chocolate waffles she was making.

' If there is anything wrong you can tell me you know'

' There's nothing wrong Owen' Amelia says, placing a slice of waffle in front of me.

The remaining breakfast time as a family was spent with Amelia busy feeding Charlotte and playing peek a boo with her. She didn't utter a single word to me.

' Mia- I know you well enough to know that something is wrong. I'm your husband, you can open up and tell me what is bothering you. We'll work it out together ok?' I am now pleading with her.  
Just then, Charlotte accidentally slammed her right fist into the cereal bowl and sent the entire bowl flying to the other side of the table.

' Char!' Amelia exclaimed in exasperation, causing our daughter to giggle.

Oh well, the talk will have to wait for now.

* * *

I can barely focus on my work today. For the past few hours, all that is in my mind is Amelia and the fact that she is avoiding me for some reason. I am determined to get to the bottom of this. This silent treatment is killing me.

It's finally lunchtime, and I rush to her office. I know that she is usually there at lunchtime, to catch a quick break.

'Come in' I hear her melancholy voice as I knock on her door.

' What is it Owen?' she asks with a hint of frustration in her voice when I walk in.

' Mia, we need to talk' I say. ' You've been avoiding me for the past few days and I deserve to know why. Is it something I've done? Or said? Have I done anything to hurt you: Has anyone else hurt you? Please just let me know what's happening. It's killing me to see you like this. Please just let me share your burden'

It's true, the change in her attitude is killing me. For the past few days, her normally sparkling ocean blue eyes are dark dull blue. And she looks so crestfallen and downtrodden these past few days, and I can see dark eyebags under her eyes.

She continues swivelling around in her chair, not uttering a single word. She can be so stubborn sometimes, which could be both a good and a bad thing.

Just then, Amelia's pager beeps.

' I've gotta go now' Amelia says stopping to give me a quick peck on the cheek before leaving the room.

I sigh to myself. Mission failed. Again.

* * *

That night, I am home earlier than Amelia, as she got held up in a long surgery.  
After feeding and putting Charlotte to bed, I take the baby monitor up to our bedroom.

After a refreshing shower, I rummage the bedroom drawers, searching for a journal or two to curl up in bed with while awaiting for Amelia to come home. I really need to have a proper conversation with my wife tonight.

I open one of the drawers to spot a big white envelope sitting in it. The envelope was never in the drawer before, it must have been a recent addition. Curious, I take the envelope out of the drawer and open it. It contains some lab results, of a patient.  
Patient X. Is it a patient of Amelia's? Maybe she has been so preoccupied with this patient the past few days that she has no time or energy to talk to me. That makes sense.

I scan through the results. Acute myeloid leukaemia. Oh dear, I pity this patient, whoever it is. I was so absorbed with the results in front of me, that I didn't notice the front door or the bedroom door opening.

"Owen, what are you doing?' Amelia's voice startled me. She is now standing at the door of our bedroom, her hands on her hips.

' Mia, you scared me. I didn't hear you come back'. I say. ' These are your patient's?' I ask holding up the sheet of paper.

She remains silent for a moment . The atmosphere in the bedroom is now tense. She is biting her lower lip, a sign that she is in deep thought or contemplating something.

' It's mine' she says finally, in a casual manner.

My head jerks upwards to stare at her. Did I hear what she said correctly? Is there something wrong with my hearing? ' What?'

' It's mine' she repeats again calmly.

No wonder she has been avoiding me for the past few days.

The entire room is silent for a moment, so silent that you could hear crickets creaking outside.

' Mia, why didn't you tell me?' I ask, hint of hurt in my voice. ' This is such a huge thing, why are you keeping this from me? I deserve to know too! When did you find out?'

' Last week' she replied meekly, now focusing her attention on the squeaky clean tiles on the floor' ' I wanted to wait for the results of the bone marrow aspiration to come back first before telling you. I didn't want you to get hurt or upset unnecessarily.'

Before I could reply, she suddenly bolts to the bathroom and heaves her entire guts contents into the toilet bowl. I enter the bathroom and slowly rub circles around her back and pull her hair back, gestures which I would do when she had morning sickness with Charlotte. Except this time it isn't morning sickness.

After she rinses her mouth, I scoop her in my arms and carry her to our bed, and gently lay her down on her side of the bed. She suddenly feels so weak, fragile and light in my arms.

I then pull her close to me, so that her head is on my lap. I stroke her hair, the gesture which she loves and never fails to give her comfort. This is the least I can do for my wife to support her through the tough times which we are about to face. She looks up at me and finally smiles- a contented smile showing her dimples, and slowly closes her eyes drifting off to sleep.

I stare down at her for a long time, memorizing every feature of hers and soaking in the feeling of her in my arms. She looks so beautiful and peaceful sleeping like this. I am going to savor every single detail of every single moment I have with her from now on, as life is never guaranteed. I know very well from my time in the army that someone can be just brutally taken away from you in an instant. Amelia herself has almost been taken away from me once, during Charlotte's birth. I really cannot afford to lose her again.

I wonder why life is so cruel, and why the higher power above lets bad things happen to good people. And no, I am not going to let the higher power above take my beautiful, loving, compassionate, kind, smart wife away from me. No. I am going to make sure she gets all the treatment necessary to save her life - the appropriate regime of chemotherapy.  
Because I need my wife and Charlotte needs her mother. How are both of us going to survive without her?

I find myself praying to God or whatever higher power above ( the first time being during Charlotte's birth when I almost lost both of them) to save my dear wife and not take her away from me. I am praying desperately for a miracle. Maybe a lab mixup, as ridiculous as it sounds. Or maybe it was just a cruel joke and it is actually a patient of Amelia's.  
Or better still, it is just a nightmare. Please let it be a mistake or a cruel joke. Please let the bone marrow aspiration results be negative.

 **Author's note : I have left several hints throughout this part, of what will happen next. See whether you can detect them ;)**

 **Please do read and review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**The Diagnosis part 3**

 **Amelia** **'s POV**

I jolt awake on my bed. Beside me, Owen is snoring peacefully. The room is still dark, indicating that it is not dawn yet. There is this feeling in the pit of my stomach. A deep sinking feeling, like there is a hole in my stomach. I lie awake, trying to put into words this feeling I have. As my mind clears, I now remember. Today is the day. The D-day. The day that I would be finding out the results of the bone marrow aspiration. Then a whole new phase of my life would start. I would be given only a few months to live- and I have decided- I want to spend these last few months of my life crossing off items on my bucketlist. I want to do crazy things like go skydiving, bungeejumping, being chased by wild animals in Africa. I want to write and publish a book, I want to buy a house at the seaside so that I can feel the cool breeze of the beach blowing in my face daily. I want to hug my daughter and my husband close. They are a lot of things I want to do before I die.

The bone marrow aspiration which I went through a few days ago was a painful and traumatic experience. They used the largest needle I have ever seen ( even though I have been a doctor for many years), and I yelped in pain when they injected the anesthetic into my hip joint. There wasn't any pain after that, but I could feel the needle moving inside my hip. I would never wish this procedure on my worst enemy. Owen was by my side, holding my hands, trying to be strong for me, but I could see the anguish on his face.

Suddenly the feeling in the pit of my stomach leads to rumbling. And before I realize what is happening, I jerk out of bed and sprint to our bathroom toilet and heave my entire guts contents into the toilet bowl. When I have nothing left to throw up anymore, I sit on the cold bathroom tile floor, and rest my head against the wall. This has been a regular occurence for the past couple of weeks, at any time of the day, but particularly in the morning. If I am already feeling like this right now, how would I be after chemotherapy? I shudder at the thought. My eyes fall on the box of tampons underneath the sink. I realize something, I haven't been using these tampons for the past month. Is skipping a period normal for patients with chronic myeloid leukaemia? I don't know- my haemotology knowledge is rather rusty, I last studied it in medical school. I would have to read up about it. Also, are sore breasts and feeling bloated also symptoms of chronic myeloid leukaemia? I would have to find out about that as well.

I slowly stand up and flush the contents of the toilet and clean up after myself. I don't want Owen to walk into the bathroom to see this mess.

* * *

A couple of hours later, I am sitting at the nurse's station, sipping on a cup of coffee. I am starting to feel queasy again, so I put down the cup and take a few deep breaths.

Arizona comes to sit next to me, also holding a cup of coffee. The strong aroma is making me want to puke again damnit!

She sighs heavily, plopping beside me, unaware of my silent battle against the urge to throw up. She is obviously postcall, with her hair let down messily, and eyebags under her eyes.

' I had the worst call ever' she volunteers without me needing to ask her. ' I lost 5 patients throughout my call - 5! That is a record. 3 children and 2 mothers.' She put down her cup of coffee and placed her head in her hands.

I swallow thickly, contempleting whether to tough it out or make a bolt to the nearest washroom.

' And I just came back from informing a supposedly antenatal patient that she actually isn't pregnant. Her HCG levels were high, but when I did the dating scan just now, I couldn't find anything. Nothing. I don't know whether it is a missed miscarriage. But if it was, she would've experienced some bleeding and cramping right? But this, no. She didn't experience anything at all. Weird.' she sighs again.

I can't hold it back any longer.

' Amelia!' I heard her cry out after me as I make a bolt to the nearest washroom and reach the toilet bowl just in time to heave my breakfast and coffee out.

* * *

' Dr Sheperd!' an intern calls happily as she sees me come out of the women's restroom. She was holding a brown sealed envelope. Oh no. The lab staff asked me to hand this to you. They said I have to hand it to you personally as it is confidential.

I groan. It is time to face my death sentence.

I find a nearest on call room and seeing no one inside, I lock the door. And page Owen. I think he would want to see the results together with me.

Within a few minutes- there was a knock on the door.

I open it and let Owen in. He had a solemn look on his face. We both exchange glances, unspoken words between us. He grabs my hand in his and rubs it gently. ' Amelia, I'll be here for you no matter what ok? Remember our wedding vows? For better and for worse, till death do us apart'. I nod silently. I am taking his word for it, I am so lucky to be married to this man.

My hands shaking, I tear the envelope apart- Owen's hands resting on my shoulders.

I say a quick prayer to the power above, and scan the results.

And gasp in surprise.

 **S** **o** **..what would the results be? Speculate away** **;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**The Diagnosis - part 4**

' What is it Amelia? What does it say?' Owen asks nervously.

I slowly look up at him, feeling puzzled.

' It says here negative for chronic myeloid leukaemia.' I say.

' Seriously?!' the relief is apparent in Owen's voice.

' Yep, see it for yourself' I say, passing him the piece of paper.

' But what I don't understand is why was the peripheral blood film positive for CML? Was it a false positive?'

' It could be' Owen replied. ' I've read somewhere before that the test could yield false positive results.'

Suddenly something clicked in my mind. Now I recall the one sided conversation Arizona was having earlier in the day with me. She said something about her patient actually not being pregnant despite the initial blood test showing abnormally high HCG levels. And combined with the symptoms that I am currently having...

' I've gotta go' I say with suden urgency in my voice.

' Huh? But your pager isn't beeping' said Owen confused.

' Yes, but I have an intern to teach' I reply, before walking out of the oncall room.

* * *

I reach the ER where I know DeLuca would be for the day.

I spot the intern attending to a burn patient together with April.

' Sorry April, I need to borrow him for a while' I say.

' Sure, go ahead' she shrugged.

I pull DeLuca to a deserted examination room and close the door behind us.

' Ermmm...Dr Shepherd, I don't think this is appropriate.' he said nervously. ' I know I am the hottest intern around...but as you know I am already with Pierce. Besides, I don't want to get beaten up to death by Dr Hunt'...'

' Shut it' I hiss. ' It's not about that! I am not interested! I just...' I clear my throat.

' I just want to know about that day when I asked you to send my results to the lab.

Was there a mix up?'

' Huh? I dont' understand.' he replied. ' I sent it straight to the lab like you asked me to.'

I cock my head to one side and look at him.

' Yes, but are you sure there isn't any mix up or anything?'

He suddenly gasps in horror as he seems to recall something.

' Oh... That day, I...I was waiting for the lab results, when Maggie suddenly came by to talk to me. I got distracted, and when the lab staff asked whether it was the correct patient X, I just said yes and took the envelope without checking the ID. There might have been more than one patient X with results sent to the lab that day. Oh my God, I am so sorry Dr. Sheperd, I really am.'

' You know, I had to endure a torturous bone marrow aspiration procedure thanks to you' I say to him with clenched teeth. ' You try it and see how it feels like'

' I am so sorry Dr Sheperd, I really am.' he says. He sounds apologetic enough, and besides, he even prepares delicious breakfast for us whenever he sleeps over in Maggie's bedroom. So I decide to let him go for the moment. Besides, I have more important matters to attend to.

I wave him off. ' I should've noticed that the ID was wrong too' I say. ' I was too busy looking at the peripheral blood film results that day to notice. Just go- you have lives to save. Go!' He gives me one last apologetic look and walks away quickly.

' Oh, and one more thing' I stop him before he leaves. 'You better go and ask Dr Robbins about her patient this morning who turned out to not be pregnant after all. And deliver the bad news to her that not only is she not pregnant, she has chronic myeloid leukaemia'. I say, patting his shoulder. ' It will be a good training for you to deliver bad news.'

* * *

' So...if this is positive...' I say, wincing as Owen sticks the needle in my arm.

' Then we have another baby' he grins, removing the needle and placing my blood into the test tube. He then kisses me on the cheek. ' I love you' he whispers, before going off to send the blood to the lab himself. He has decided NOT to trust interns to send blood anymore.

I remain at the nurse's counter, fidgeting with my hands nervously. Of course, I would very much prefer this diagnosis compared to CML, thank you very much. But there is this little part of me that is filled with trepidation. How am I supposed to endure another traumatic childbirth so soon after I almost died giving birth to Charlotte? Would I still be lucky this time around? How can I cope with not one, but two young children? How will Owen cope taking care of 2 young children if I am not around anymore? Also , I barely got back into the groove of work, and now I would have to take maternity leave again after several months. How am I going to be the top neurosurgeon if I keep on bearing children at this rate? Oh my. I rub my forehead with my hands.

Just then, a trauma comes in, and all is forgotten for the moment.

That night, Owen and I sit in our bedroom, holding hands, as I hold the envelope bearing the results of my latest blood test. This time, it is in anticipation of good news, unlike the previous time I was holding an envelope in my hands.

' You open it this time' I nod at him, giving him the permission.

He looks at me as if to confirm whether I really want him to do the honors.

'Yes' I confirm.

He slowly pulls out the results from the envelope and I know the results immediately upon seeing the look of pure joy erupt in his face.

It is contagious, as my initial feeling of trepidition about this diagnosis is replaced by the feeling of joy too.

He pulls me into a tight hug.

' We are having another baby' he whispers, kissing me on the forehead. ' God Mia, I love you so much'

' We are having another baby' I repeat, tiptoeing to kiss him on the lips.

Visions of another baby, maybe a boy, maybe a clone of Owen this time, is now appearing in my head. I am thinking of buying a Big Sister onsie for Charlotte soon. But first, I would have to book an antenatal appointment with Arizona tomorrow.

But all these thoughts are erased from my mind temporarily, as Owen kissed me back on the lips hungrily and we are both lost in a moment of celebration.

 **So there you go! How do you like this final diagnosis? Better than the first diagnosis right? ;)**

 **I have a sequel for this planned- with Cristina visiting Seattle a few months later.**


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